Straight from the holler.


  by Buck

December 29, 2008

Those of you who read the WVSR can appreciate irreverence, therefore you’ll find this act of kindness by a buddy of mine a pure side-splitter.

He pulled off the interstate and at the red light at the end of the ramp was a homeless guy with a sign begging for money. My buddy rolled down the window and said, “Got change for a $100?” I’ll admit it—I nearly cried. You did too. If you won’t admit it—then
 you're a liar and shouldn't be reading this site.

Perhaps you folks will agree with me the Mr. Goodbar gets no respect. I think I’ve written about this before, but it continues to nag at me.
  Why does the Mr. Goodbar get no respect?  It’s a chocolate bar with peanuts. What’s not to love? It tastes great.

Why is it then, you seldom see anybody eating a Mr. Goodbar? Am I wrong? Do you see kids hauling those bright yellow wrappers out of a lunchbox? Do you hear kids screaming at their parents, “Can I have a Mr. Goodbar?” when they’re in the check out line at Wal-Mart? I submit you do not.

In fact, I have observed at most candy displays, the Mr. Goodbar box is almost always completely filled. The only way they get picked up is if somebody is grabbing a wide “selection” of candy—and happens to drop that into the bin. It’s a sad state of affairs for a candy bar that I for one believe has yet to reach its full potential.

I personally blame Madison Avenue. Take a look at the wrapper. It’s one of the only YELLOW wrappers, obviously a turnoff. Then there’s the late 1960’s early 1970’s font on the label.

Then there’s the question of history. Without doing a Google search, I couldn’t tell you when Mr. Goodbar was first introduced. I know it’s been around a while—since I remember it being shunned in my youth.

The only time I’ve ever eaten one is when it came in a package of miniatures in the Halloween assortment….it ranks in eating order right below the Krackle and above the Special Dark….the candy put on earth to prove that chocolate can in fact taste like feces when people take a notion to make it that way.

But back to my point—the Mr. Goodbar is WAY overshadowed historically by its parent the Hershey Bar. Hell, they were handing those out to the bedraggled Japanese kids while island hopping the Pacific in 1945. Sure you’d been living under an oppressed regime of totalitarian rule, living on rice, in a one room straw hut –which had been burned to the ground while your family was cut to pieces with Samurai swords before your very eyes…but hey, here come the GIs with the Hershey bars…and all is better.

You never saw troops in Vietnam handing out Mr. Goodbars to mud-covered refugees. Perhaps current world events could have changed if only the Mr. Goodbar was given a bigger seat at the table. The world will never know.

Is it possible that cream cheese can also be used as soap? Just asking.

I was listening to the radio this week and heard Tim McGraw talking about how the economy is making this a very special Christmas to take stock and embrace all that you have. He says consider yourself blessed as you gather your family in your homes for the holidays this year. Excuse me…to quote Jeff Kay,
  “Wotta douche.”

Tim McGraw is an amazingly arrogant prick of the highest order. As if he would have ANY clue what suffering in the flagging economy is like? The shit bag lives in a mansion. He and his wife (Faith Hill) are ultra wealthy and have enough money that their family won’t have to work for several GENERATIONS to come.

I don’t hold being rich against anybody—hell I hope to be a wealthy prick someday (everybody needs a goal), however, don’t attempt to equate yourself to people who are truly hunting for a pot to piss in this Christmas. What an insufferable asshole.

Along those same lines, how can you REALLY tell a diamond from a cubic zucchini or whatever? I’ve seen a few diamonds over the years—and honestly couldn’t tell you the difference in one of these and something under the glass at the finer Wal-Mart jewelry counter. Most people are like me—and can’t. Therefore, who gives a shit if it’s real?
  I mean honestly.

There is no better food on the planet than a rotisserie chicken. You can write that down.

Merry Christmas. …..and yes I DID just wish you a good Christian holiday—what of it?

Buck Out

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